


Interruption

by janto321 (FaceofMer)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alpha Greg Lestrade, BAMF Greg Lestrade, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Mycroft Holmes, Omega Verse, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Protective Greg Lestrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26065663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaceofMer/pseuds/janto321
Summary: Never a dull moment, even in Mycroft's heat
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 14
Kudos: 171





	Interruption

Greg hurried into the house. He heard the sound of Mycroft upstairs and quickly shed his coat. Mycroft's heats were becoming unpredictable as he reached the end of fertile years and this one had come on without any warning at all.

Hurrying up the stairs, Greg started undressing in the hall, naked by the time he reached the bedroom doorway. He paused, smiling softly as he took in the sight.

Mycroft was curled up in the middle of the bed, having made something of a nest from a mix of Greg's clothes and his own. He was laying underneath Greg's other coat, making soft noises as he moved and shifted, only the top of his head visible.

Greg quickly crossed the room, drawing the coat back, admiring the view as Mycroft turned his head and blinked up at him. "Gregory," he moaned softly, shivering as a wave of heat washed over him.

"Mycroft," said Greg, breathing in the scent of him, his cock already full in anticipation. He slipped into the nest of clothes and settled behind Mycroft, nuzzling his neck.

Moaning softly, Mycroft tried to give Greg room. Greg adjusted him where he wanted him, then pressed in, holding Mycroft close as he filled him. His instincts rebelled against taking it slow, but Greg had gotten quite good at reining them in. The sweet sounds that Mycroft made were more than enough to drive him on.

Greg rolled Mycroft onto his stomach, kissing his bond bite as he started to thrust. There was nothing quite like the feeling of Mycroft in heat, desperate and needy in a way he rarely allowed himself to be outside of it. To be his mate was a privilege, as was hearing his sweet pleas for more.

Already Greg's knot was catching. "Gonna take good care of you," he murmured, thrusting harder, starting to let himself get lost in the moment. The world narrowed down to just the two of them, here in the nest Mycroft had made for them.

Greg bit down as he came, feeling Mycroft spasm with his own climax as he was filled. Pleasure washed through every nerve. His mate, his omega, his Mycroft.

When Greg came back to himself he was spooned tightly around Mycroft, rubbing his chest, murmuring praise into his ear. Mycroft squeezed his other hand and Greg felt him drift off towards sleep.

A little while later, Greg carefully extricated himself, kissing Mycroft's cheek. He'd need to make sure they had the supplies to be here for a few days, though there was no telling anymore how long Mycroft's heat might last. He may be up and about in a few hours, or it might be a week. Either way, Greg would be here.

Greg was in the kitchen making a list for grocery delivery when he heard a noise. Rather wishing he'd put on a robe, he carefully slipped out of the kitchen to investigate. He'd been so focused on Mycroft that he hadn't made sure the security was on and it was possible that Mycroft hadn't checked either.

There, a shadow by the garden door. Greg cast around for a weapon, carefully picking up a poker from in front of the fireplace. He kept an eye on the back door, slowly circling around the fireplace. Some part of his hind brain was yelling that he needed to protect his omega upstairs, but, well, that was exactly what he was attempting to do.

Suddenly there was a crash from another part of the house. Greg cursed and ducked behind the sofa as someone burst through the garden door. He raised his head and saw someone dressed in black and carrying a large gun sweep the room.

Right, fuck that. He moved to the edge of the sofa and waited for the stranger to move closer. At the right time he swung, hearing the crunch of a kneecap. The man yelled and nearly dropped his gun, giving Greg enough time to hit him again and grab it from him.

A moment later there was shouting outside and he knew Mycroft's people had arrived. Greg could only assume Mycroft had heard the commotion and hit the panic button. He dropped his poker and picked up a pillow from the sofa and held it over himself as Anthea led the other's inside. She nodded at him and cuffed the groaning man on the floor. 

Mycroft himself appeared a few moments later, all but throwing a robe at Greg as he turned to talk to Anthea. Greg quickly got it on and tied the belt, going into the kitchen to make some tea. He saw Mycroft's people hauling someone else away just outside the kitchen window.

The tea was ready by the time Mycroft joined him, wrapping his arms around Greg's waist and sighing into his shoulder. "All sorted?"

"For now. I'll deal with it after my heat."

Greg turned and folded him in his arms, kissing his temple. "I made tea."

"You always know the right thing to do," said Mycroft, taking his cup and sipping it. "Did you attempt to fight off an intruder naked, with nothing but a poker?"

"I think I did a pretty fair job of it, thank you," said Greg, sipping his own drink before nuzzling Mycroft's hair.

"You did," said Mycroft. "And I'm rather glad you weren't injured."

"Me, too," said Greg, leaning and kissing him gently. "There's some cake in the fridge if you're hungry."

"For once I'm more interested in something else."

Greg reached down and slid his hand into Mycroft's robe, running his thumb along his hip. 

Mycroft put his cup down and leaned back against the counter, smiling at him.

Greg took one last sip of his tea before putting his cup next to Mycroft's, pulling the tie of his robe free and letting it fall open. He kissed Mycroft again and shifted him over to a chair, spreading his thighs as he went to his knees.

"Mine," Greg murmured, adjusting Mycroft so he could get a taste of him.

Mycroft moaned softly at the drag of his tongue, running a hand through his hair, encouraging him.

The taste and scent of Mycroft was heady, better than the strongest liquor. The little noises Mycroft made as Greg devoured him was the sweetest music. It was everything Greg had never thought he'd get and more than he'd hoped for.

"Please," moaned Mycroft.

Greg groaned and dropped a hand to squeeze his cock as a wave of heat washed through Mycroft and exploded across his tongue.

Standing, he put an arm around Mycroft and all but dragged him over to the kitchen counter, getting him settled on the edge of it. Mycroft wrapped his arms around Greg's neck as he thrust into him.

Greg held his hips as he took him, feeling his knot already swelling. He nibbled on Mycroft's shoulder, so grateful for what he had in his arms.

"Bite me," growled Mycroft.

Greg nodded and pulled out only long enough to yank Mycroft down and flip him over, bending him over the counter. He thrust in hard, again, knot swelling as he approached his climax. Mycroft groaned as he came and Greg followed him over, biting down, shivering with the electricity pouring through his veins.

"Mmm, wonderful," muttered Mycroft.

Greg chuckled and carefully guided them to sit on the floor, still knotted together. "I take it your security is in place again, now."

"It is. We won't be interrupted."

"Good." Greg nuzzled his bond bite and stifled a yawn. "I think I may need a nap after this. Once my knot goes down of course."

"Maybe I'll take you up on that cake," said Mycroft, leaning back against him and shifting his hips. Greg groaned as he released another wave of seed. "God, I love you, Mycroft."

"I love you too."

Greg held him close, drowsy, and reveled in what they had.


End file.
